I had nothing left to lose
by avatar1497
Summary: Lotor and Allura have a discussion about her relationship with the former blue paladin.


**Author Notes: **

{ Warning don't read this if you like Lance!}

_Basically, Allura and Lotor did not die in season 8 instead were transported to another galaxy entirely, though they have no idea where they are exactly-in another galaxy or simply an alternate universe-the point remains the same they're lost, yet honestly, neither of them have any desire to return home if they can even call home-home anymore. So, they simply wander from place to place taking on odd jobs learning their way around._

_I kind of wrote this in response to the whole "Lotor and Allura died and went to Altean heaven became space gods and finally found happiness". This might be an unpopular opinion but I really don't like the headcanon because I don't like the implication that Allura and Lotor had to suffer, be brutalized then die in order to achieve any kind of peace or happiness._

_So, I finally wrote this-I wanted them to find happiness in living, not dying._

_So, anyways this was also inspired by the SAGA series, if your interested give it a read, it's really good, but be warned there's a lot of trigging stuff in it, it's violent and it's gory and full of tragedy, but it's good. but, if that stuff bothers you don't read it._

* * *

Lotor felt as though he was standing on shaky ground, then again he always was. Caution and wariness were essentially built in his very blood, his very bones. But, the mention of the former blue paladin rose questions he did not know if he wanted answered, yet he proceeded to anyways.

"Did you love him?"

"Huh?" She turns to him with furrowed brows.

"The blue paladin." He restates "Did you love him?" a look that he could not decipher crosses her face, her previous smile, as small as it was, crumbles into a tight frown and she looks away.

For Allura, she feels her lungs constrict and her stomach sway, though she's not sure if it's because of the mention of him or because of her swelling womb. Her attention instead focuses on the crowds below them, she watched the world shift around her all so foreign yet so similar in many ways. She wanted to pretend that Lotor hadn't asked her anything, but she can't hide from the ugly truth.

He's light years, probably realities away from her, eons between them, yet she found the space comforting, she felt relieved.

No more fake smiles, fake sentiments. Day in and day out he'd ask her the same question "Allura, are you happy?" Repeatedly, droning on like a broken record she replied yes every time on the dot. No hesitation, no pause yet each day it became harder and harder to say.

She never knew why he asked all the time, she pondered, but never asked because she dreaded the answer. Reassurance? Insecurity? Perhaps, those are the ones that come to mind anyway.

Afterwards, he'd smile and carry on-never once noticing the darkening of her face, or the ugly twist of her lips. Or the knife that dug its way into her chest every moment of intimacy between them carried on. It was a lot like drowning when his hard, pulsing lips shove themselves against hers awkwardly, dryly; she was sinking and sinking, her lungs crying, begging for air, but denied the simple pleasure of oxygen.

"No." She cradles her stomach "I don't think I did."

"Then why?"

Allura's gaze flickers to the stars up ahead then they fall back to him; she expected anger but all she saw was a curious stare. With that, she noticed again the facial hair sprouting from his chin. And couldn't help but reach out and touch, his smooth, thick skin was scratchy under the pads of her fingers and it fascinated her with childish glee.

"Allura…" neither a statement nor a call to question, just a simple utterance of her name as she ran her fingers along his jaw to avoid his line of sight.

"Because I had nothing left to lose." And there that ugly truth. One that on Earth she refused to face, refused to acknowledge in the pursuit of trying to remain sane in the midst of entropy.

She peeks to see what expression he's making only to find his countenance blank and impassive. Something crossed his mind, whatever it was she had no idea; he was hard to read like this seemingly cold and far away.

Lotor did not what to think of that; I went to him because I had nothing left to lose. How depreciating. Depressing, in its own right, but he knew the feeling all too well. What point is there when all you have to your name is nothing? He transversed that plane many of times more than cared to in his exhaustingly, long lifetime.

Yet, it begged another question, another that he feared to ask-what it was like for her on Earth for all those months.

Lost.

Loney.

Confused.

Trapped.

Isolated.

The capital was no different. Extravagant, opulent, massive, a testament to his father's arrogance. But for him an elaborate prison.

Was that what Earth was for you, Allura? A pretty, little prison?

Allura hardly spoke of her time on Earth, she did not speak of the paladins either nor the paladin of blue despite being her lover for that short period of time and debated on whether or not she was also too his prisoner in some sense of the word.

It was an assumption, but he knew his Allura and knew the looks that played out on her face when Earth was brought up like the back of his hand.

He had seen those same expressions in his own.

"Are you mad?"

He blinked "Pardon?" Tilting his head downwards to her.

"Are you made about-"

"No" he shakes his head, he feels a braid fall over his shoulder "never." He was, of course, livid but not with her. Never at her, sometimes at her, but he saw no point in clinging to it; his father was consumed by it, the hellfire and brimstone of his rage is what he built his grave out of. Lotor had no desire to repeat such a fate.

He wants nothing more than the past to just die. Die and be ash as it should; unmourned and unremembered, lost to the sands of time. He's had enough of legacies and trinkets of bygone eras, enough being a slave to the mistakes of his blood father's.

Allura eyes him delicately, trying to pick him apart for any untruths in his words but she gives when she finds none and her hands return to her belly.

"I thought I could make myself love him…." She continues without prompting.

"And you couldn't."

"It was...hard" her eyes squeezed shut for a brief moment "almost unbearable at times, but at the time I was doing us a favor. I thought I was-" she paused and opened her gaze to look upon the bustling crowds once more. He can hear the cheers of drunken singing down a corridor "I don't think I knew what I was doing" she murmurs, sighing. A flicker of frustration crawls into her face before it relaxes "oh!" Her body jerks.

"What is it?"

"The baby kicked again" he's quick to reach over.

"Where?"

"Here." She guides his hand and waits, for a second he thought he had missed another opportunity until he felt something light press against the open flesh of his palm.

"There! There!" She chirps excitedly and Lotor did not know what face to make as he felt what he's assuming is a tiny foot kicking him adamantly.

"Lotor?"

"Forgive me" overwhelmed he simply presses his forehead against his mate's temple savoring the warmth of her skin against his "this is all too new to me"

"Yeah," she says leaning into his touch "I suppose we're in that boat together." Allura staved off her quiet fears about the pain of labor and birthing, one that's been playing circle around her mind since she learned of her pregnancy, not wanting to ruin their peaceful evening.


End file.
